


A Brother's Treason

by dreamlittleyo



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bickering, Explicit Sexual Content, Grudges, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Second Time, Sexual Content, Sibling Incest, Wordcount: 1.000-3.000, Wordcount: 1.000-5.000, Wordcount: Over 1.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:25:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamlittleyo/pseuds/dreamlittleyo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor can tell, by the barely discernible narrowing of Loki's eyes, that his brother is surprised to see him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Brother's Treason

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Porn Battle XV](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/539426.html) to the prompts "possessive, covet, wrath".

Thor can tell, by the barely discernible narrowing of Loki's eyes, that his brother is surprised to see him. 

Loki's surprise is understandable. Thor should not have been able to find him here, in this sliver of a realm, derelict and barren. It's a clever corner for hiding, and not quite so dead as some of the places Loki has gone to ground. If it weren't for the stifling chill of shadows, or the faint scent of death carried on an indifferent wind, Thor might think this valley as natural as any other. Moss and reluctant foliage pattern the rocky terrain, and in the dark sky above there is nothing but a fractured moon to give off a sullen glow.

Thor suspects there is no such thing as daylight in a place like this.

"What are you doing here?" Loki demands, voice low and dark with threat. 

Thor offers a sad smile and answers simply, "I missed you." 

He has long given up hope of regaining Loki's trust, friendship, allegiance. Most days he is certain his brother still loves him—how could Loki hate him so passionately otherwise?—but Thor is no longer naive enough to think that sufficient. They've been enemies too long. They have faced each other across too many battlefields. When they're not fighting, Thor no longer knows what they are to each other.

For this reason—if reason has anything to do with it—Thor has found his way here. It has been too many years since he sought his brother out in the lull between storms. 

Loki eyes him warily for a long moment. Several feet separate them, and Thor wants to do away with that distance. But he is neither so rash nor so foolish as he used to be. His presence here is not a truce exactly, and any ill-considered move might raise Loki's defenses, to catastrophic effect. Thor is not here to fight. So he waits, patient beneath his brother's scrutiny.

At last Loki's sharp expression dulls into dry exasperation. He shrugs, turns his back on Thor, and begins to walk away.

"Come along, then." Loki's voice is softened by a gust of wind. "I suppose you might as well come inside."

Thor follows. He doesn't even see the entrance; the dark cavern is too well hidden in cliff wall and ragged stone. He stumbles within the sudden blackness inside, following Loki by sound alone until his brother takes pity on him and conjures a pale blue orb of light to hand. 

The tunnel narrows and turns, deeper into the rigid stone, but the floor beneath their feet gradually rises. Taking them higher into the cliff rather than farther below ground.

Inside, Loki's refuge is as bright and agreeable as the world beyond is grim and stark. An intricately carved desk stands against the smoothest wall, torches alight to either side of it. There is little other furniture, but what there is looks to be of fine make. Smaller than the sturdy desk is the low bed, sparsely curtained and all but buried in shadow. Of the space that remains, most is taken up by trunks and crates and piles of books. Loki's library. The only tangible possessions Thor has ever known him to treasure.

Even here, in what passes for home, the air is chill. A blue fire crackles in the large brazier at the center of the chamber, but it offers no heat. Loki has no fear for the cold.

"You'll forgive me if I don't offer you a drink," Loki mutters, shedding his heavy surcoat and draping it over the back of the only chair, near the fire. "I was not anticipating company." 

"Perhaps next time I will give you more warning," Thor retorts. He won't, of course. The element of surprise is often his only advantage in dealings with his brother. If Loki had known Thor was coming, he'd have moved on long before Thor could surprise him.

Considering the limited options, Thor drops carelessly to sit on the enormous wooden trunk nearest his brother. Loki still stands with his hand atop the chair back, regarding Thor with an almost quizzical expression. Thor wonders if it has been so long that Loki can truly be surprised to see him.

"Sit," Thor demands, gesturing at the chair Loki has already claimed by proximity. "Please. It is long since we last talked."

"That's because we rarely have anything worth saying to one another," Loki scoffs. He does not sit. But he does drop his hand from the chair and take a step nearer to Thor, stopping before him, crossing his arms as he locks Thor with an assessing look. Thor, stubbornly unbothered, scoots back on the trunk and leans so that he can meet Loki's stare directly. He is not here for another fight; he desires his brother's company, not his wrath.

A more thoughtful expression shadows Loki's face, and he takes a step closer. Close enough to touch—he would just need to sway forward for their knees to brush together. Thor presses his lips into a thin line and keeps his own face as blank as he can. Distracting as Loki might look, lithe and backlit by the eerie blue firelight, _this_ was not Thor's purpose in coming here. 

"There's no need to pretend, Brother." Loki's voice is gentle except for the last word, the bitter growl he makes of the word 'brother'. "You did not really come to talk."

"I also did not come to repeat past mistakes," Thor counters, more harshly than he intends. 

"Mistakes," Loki murmurs, mocking now. "Yes, I suppose you _would_ consider it a mistake. You never were one for thinking your actions through."

Thor struggles to keep his mind from veering, uninvited, into territory best ignored. Instead, he finds himself remembering in detail exactly why he has stayed away for so long. He wishes he could blame drink, or adrenaline, or even the fever of battle for his actions upon their last meeting. But he has no such excuse. It was a quiet moment, a temporary peace much like this one, and Thor's only reason for taking Loki was that he wanted to. 

Now, in the impossible quiet, with Loki's eyes weighing heavily on him, Thor remembers all too vividly the feel of Loki beneath his hands, the taste and scent of him, the pleading gasp of Loki's voice as he came undone. He remembers Loki's mouth, cool and taunting, submitting to his kiss and goading him in turn. 

Loki must see these memories in Thor's eyes. An unmistakable smugness draws one corner of his mouth up in a smirk Thor is all too familiar with. 

"You see," Loki murmurs, voice pitched thoughtful and low. "You may as well admit it. You never could fool me." Without warning he slips forward, dropping to straddle Thor's thighs in a sleek, alarming movement. 

"Come now," Loki says, raising his hands to fame Thor's face. "There's no need to be shy." 

The kiss should not surprise Thor, but his mind still reels, his pulse rushes violently at the feel of Loki's mouth. He has tried so hard to forget. It's all he can do not to crush Loki against him now and take control of the kiss, turn it into something more.

Somehow he masters himself, and in the next instant Thor grasps Loki by the arms and breaks the kiss by force of strength. He doesn't remove Loki from his lap—he is not made of stone—but he forces himself to meet his brother's eyes and speak in the steadiest voice he can muster.

"I did not come for this."

"Then you are a fool," Loki snaps, and his sudden anger catches Thor like a punch. 

"Brother—" Thor protests, but Loki doesn't allow him to finish.

"No. We have covered this ground a thousand times. I am not your brother. How many times must I renounce you before you accept it?" There is bitter wrath in every word, an exhausted anger that Thor has never known how to mend. Thor swallows his protests; he has offered them all before. Loki never listens, and Thor will not get through to him now.

"Is _that_ why you still deny the truth?" Loki asks in a softer voice.

"What truth?" 

Loki smirks at him, ice in his eyes, and says, "That you covet me. That you have _always_ coveted me. What other truth is there?" 

Thor wants to deny the accusation, but the words stick in his throat and refuse to come out. He is mute and lost. The reality, however much Thor may wish to deny it, is that Loki is right. He has always harbored a stubborn possessiveness of Loki, feelings that never sat quite comfortably within the bounds of brotherly affection. Even before Thor learned the truth this was so, but it's been a thousandfold worse since the day Loki fell. 

Denial saw him through as long as it could, but that protection is gone and cannot be reclaimed. Thor cannot disavow his desires now. He has made himself culpable. He's had Loki once, and it would be useless to claim he does not want what Loki is offering now.

More than anything, he wishes he could make Loki understand that he would've come anyway. He will _always_ come. It matters not how many times Loki renounces him; they will always be brothers.

Thor knows better than to speak any of these sentiments aloud. Instead, he breathes a quiet sigh, offers a smile—sad around the edges, but genuine—and says, "I _have_ missed you."

The assertion obviously catches Loki off guard. The smirk smudges and fades, replaced by an almost wounded look of surprise. Loki, braced for a fight, is clearly unprepared for Thor's unvarnished affection. It takes him several seconds to regain his cool composure, and by then Thor has already seen through the mask. He has seen enough. There is no going back now, for either of them.

"What are you playing at?" Loki asks. Soft, cautious, no bitterness this time. 

"I do not deny that I want you," Thor says. It would be a foolish denial. Poised as Loki is astride his thighs, pressed close despite Thor's restraining hands holding him at bay, Loki cannot be oblivious to Thor's arousal. Much as Thor has been struggling not to be distracted by Loki's proximity, he is far from immune. And unarmed as he has come, without his usual armor, without even Mjölnir at his side, there is only fabric between them now. 

Loki eyes him darkly, confusion drawing his brows low and his shoulders tight. 

"Then why do you hesitate?" 

"Because it is wrong," Thor says, though he speaks the words with resignation. "And because I have no desire to hurt you, though there is every chance I might if I indulge myself. And because you have not told me what _you_ want."

Loki stares at him in open shock. Silence stretches between them, so complete that Thor could swear he hears Loki's heartbeat. Neither of them speaks for seconds that turn into endless minutes, but for once Thor senses that they are understanding each other perfectly.

When at last Loki speaks it is to say only, "I will not let you hurt me." 

Loki kisses him again; this time, Thor lets him. And this time, Thor does not hold himself back.

When he drags Loki flush against him, his brother breathes a pleased sound and slides his long fingers into Thor's hair. Loki's mouth is pliant, submissive as Thor takes control. He offers no protest, no resistance as Thor cups the nape of his neck with one hand and changes the angle of the kiss, turning it into something deep and greedy, fierce with want. He is through denying himself. 

If Thor were not so desperate—if he were not so quickly reduced to base instincts and mindless need—he would take Loki to bed. Instead he puts Loki on his back there on the floor, only noting the soft carpet of furs beneath them after the fact. He tries to be careful of Loki's clothing, but still manages to tear the fine fabric of his tunic in his hurry to get at the smooth skin beneath. Loki, by far the more patient, tears Thor's leggings only out of spite—retribution perhaps—but the end result is the same: both of them naked at last, Loki pinned firmly beneath Thor's weight, hardly helpless but making no effort whatever to escape.

" _Here_ ," Loki gasps, and then his fingers—slick with oil, though Thor cannot summon the focus to ask how—are circling Thor's cock. He gives a single stroke, slow and taunting, slicking the entire length and then withdrawing with a smirk.

Thor growls and leans down to take Loki's mouth in a vicious kiss. But already he is reaching down and aligning himself between Loki's thighs. Loki's knees are goading pressure at Thor's sides, urging him on, and Thor does not think. He curls his free hand around Loki's hip, and thrusts roughly forward.

Loki stifles a cry when Thor enters him. His spine arches, whole body pressing along Thor's chest, and Thor does not even try to restrain himself. Loki is tight heat around him, and Thor takes surer hold of Loki's hips, both hands now, for the leverage he needs. He does not stop until there is no deeper he can go, and then he stills, taking in the surreal intimacy of the moment, the sensation of their bodies fitted so snugly together. Loki's eyes have fallen closed and his head is thrown back, his throat arched as his chest rises and falls unsteadily. Thor leans down without thought and presses a kiss just beneath Loki's jaw, tasting the rushing pulse beneath his mouth—then surrenders to baser instincts and sucks a deliberate bruise into his brother's pale flesh.

Loki gasps, and his fingers fist in Thor's hair, keeping him close. Thor growls and, wrapping his arms around Loki, he rolls his hips in a ruthless thrust. 

Once he is moving, he can only continue. Need is a potent force in his blood, and Thor is not gentle as his rhythm mounts in both speed and force. Loki meets every thrust, even as Thor's movements become brutal and frantic. He murmurs curses in Thor's ear, goads him on, laughs breathlessly at the helpless snarls Thor presses to his throat. Even when Loki comes, long before Thor reaches his own climax, Loki's silver tongue does not fall quiet.

Thor cannot think. He can only take. Loki's legs wrap around him, ankles locking at Thor's back, and Thor is lost now even to himself. He is a rutting animal, mindless at the precipice.

He comes with a shout, burying his face in Loki's shoulder as he thrusts deep, spilling his release with a final stutter of his hips. The world crackles with thunder, and the cave shakes. Thor clings to Loki through the cresting wave, as it carries him high and washes everything else away.

He comes grudgingly aware again not long after, slow to reclaim his senses after such a potent overload. The first thing he notices is the soft sensation of Loki's fingers toying idly with his hair, not quite a caress but surprisingly gentle. Then there is the feel of Loki, still beneath him, slim but solid in his arms. Thor's softening cock is still inside his brother, and though his flesh is over sensitized, he finds himself reluctant to move.

Loki must notice some change, because his hands fall still. Thor groans, resigned to the fact that the moment has passed. Belatedly, and cautiously, he withdraws from his brother's body. Loki's breath barely hitches as Thor slips free. He makes no move to push Thor away.

Reluctantly, Thor pushes up onto his elbows, opening his eyes and taking in Loki's cryptic face. They stare at each other—gauging, questioning—trying to read beneath the surface of everything that just passed between them. Thor can read nothing in Loki's eyes; he suspects his own are giving away every secret he has ever held. 

"Idiot," Loki mutters, an unmistakable edge of fondness tinting the word. "What am I to do with you?"

Thor knows better than to answer such a question. Instead he leans down for a softer kiss, and prays that Loki will let him stay.


End file.
